


Alleyways

by Beryllium_Astatine, cantodelcolibri



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Crushes, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, it's a questionable blast from the past!!, look it's as plausible as anything else, ooh look there's a tag for, so let's add that, y ya saben que la sombra habla español
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:25:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beryllium_Astatine/pseuds/Beryllium_Astatine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantodelcolibri/pseuds/cantodelcolibri
Summary: They met when they were children, and a fact remains a fact no matter how much the parties involved may want to ignore it.





	1. Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sup man get ready for some self-indulgent bullshit and by bullshit i mean fluff
> 
> check out this [kickass art,](http://brancadoodles.tumblr.com/post/170633284580/i-dont-know-how-to-walk-alone-on-these-streets-i) drawn by Beryllium_Astatine, which served as inspiration for this fic
> 
> translations in end notes cuz if you know me you know i physically cannot help myself

She doesn’t know what does it. What it is that snatches her attention away from the fight— from the fuckin  _ space gorilla _ going ballistic on her boss (or ally. Or buddy, or whatever the hell Reaper is) that she was just running towards. Maybe it’s a faint but familiar scent of jasmine, or a flash of bright cyan blue. Maybe it’s a hum of satisfaction just within her hearing range, or maybe… 

 

Maybe it’s fate. 

 

Or, (and this is much more likely) maybe it’s the fact that she’s all of a sudden painfully aware _que es una estupida boba pendeja, y nunca mira hacia donde va, y ahora si lo va pagar._ [1] Maybe it’s that she’s gone and walked right into a trap, and maybe her stopping dead in her tracks has to do with the knowledge that if she takes another step forward, the two Vishkar turrets skillfully tucked away and hidden in the corner of the open room she just rushed into will probably kill her.

 

Fate or stupidity or whatever it is makes her stop and take stock.

 

Ilios is dark, the moon shines bright over the waves slapping against the cliffs just a few meters away. At night, the crisp white of the buildings around her turn a soft muted blue. The city would be silent if not for the battle currently unfolding at the center of it— right by the fucking well, and she sees a neon streak of green in the distance that does NOT bode well for Reaper in his fight against Winston. She has to get there and take Lúcio out using her camo before anyone can catch sight of her. There are only two exits; the impossible one in front of her and the one at her back. She slowly turns around in hopes of not activating the turrets’ motion sensors when she hears footsteps. 

Sombra grits her teeth and whines,  _ “Ay, no manches!”  _ [2]

She has her beacon out but using it would put her back three blocks away from the fighting and she would rather prefer to kill whoever it is that’s coming to presumably kill her. Her hand flies to her hip to unclip her pistol and she hides behind a pillar, because there’s no shortage of fucking pillars in Ilios. From behind the cross-hatch shutters of the window on the far wall, she sees a figure that very nearly glows in the moonlight, and her eyes seek out the doorway that’s her only means of escape and sees a heeled foot step out. Her eyes are quick to follow the bronze-chrome of the artful footwear up to shapely calves and thighs she’d kill to have, or maybe lick. But she ducks back behind the shelter of the pillar when she sees a photon projector lit up and just ready to latch onto a target. 

 

There’s little chance she can get the drop on a Vishkar architech. She’s fucked. Sombra sighs loudly, undoes the safety on her pistol just to try her luck, and palms at her wrist to check her translocator’s status in case her luck falls short. And then the architech speaks. 

“Show yourself,” says a voice, smooth and demanding. And familiar. Strangely familiar. Sombra glances to the side and sees her shadow stretching into the room, black against the moonlight that casts it. “I will not ask again,” says the voice, and it’s still familiar— achingly so. 

But Sombra doesn’t pay much mind to that, she’s done her fair share of mistaking shadows for a friendly face. She makes the mistake of sneaking a peek at the aggressor and freezes with her finger about to leave the trigger guard.

 

Fate. Maybe, just maybe.

 

Well, whatever it is, she certainly can’t kill her  _ now. _

 

"Satya?” She hears her own voice call out, and she didn’t mean to let the niggling nostalgia escape into the evening air, but there it is. Her voice is breathy and full of wonder and disbelief, because behind the safety of her pillar stands a woman deadly as a viper and twice as lovely, and Sombra  _ knows _ her. Or she did. She knew her once upon a time, a different time, a time long past. 

So Sombra does something stupid. Stupid and sentimental and entirely impulsive and one day it’s going to get her shot but today she can’t help but stumble out of her hiding spot with a hopeful flutter to her voice and her fingers pressed ready to activate her translocator. 

“Saty?” 

Satya Vaswani looks at her and her eyes are dim in the dark. But they’re that same golden amber and the careful smile in her eyes is gone and she doesn’t have an  _ arm, dios mio ¿que le paso? _ [3]

The architech doesn’t move, not a single centimeter. Her eyebrows are drawn in and focused, she doesn’t show the slightest sign of recognition and that hurts more than Sombra would care to admit. But she’s never been one to show her cards, and speaking her name twice is already more than enough of a tell so she pastes on a sleazy grin and shouts, “HEEEY!!"

The loudness of it snaps a reaction out of her, as Sombra knew it would. 

"Do I know you?" Satya asks, and Sombra’s sure of it now. Even now, fifteen years later, she carries herself the same way. She has the same tilt to her jaw, the same confidence in her stance.

"Come on!” Sombra spreads her arms open and carefully keeps her pistol pointed down. The safety’s still off. She doesn’t want to use it, but that projector’s aim is deadly and she’s got too much left to do. “It's Sombra! Som?"

Her name doesn’t get anything out of Satya past a quizzical eyebrow and a small step forward.

Sombra takes a small step back. “You remember! That street rat from Mexico that you met on your trip with the Academy? I know it wasn’t long, but I’m pretty sure I at least left an impression!” 

But apparently she hadn’t, because Satya doesn’t look like she’s made a startling recollection, so Sombra goes in for the kill.

And  _ maybe _ the smile on her face softens a little when she says, "Here I thought maybe I was special, you know? Being first girl you kissed," but who was going to call her out on it? 

Puzzlement is evident in Satya’s expression, but her grip on her weapon doesn’t let up, and her aim doesn’t falter. She sputters a little as she thinks aloud. "S- Som...bra??” And then her head jerks back and her feet follow the sudden motion. Her eyes are wide and she softly exclaims, “Ah!” 

“There you go!” Sombra says with a laugh. Satya’s weapon lowers just a bit, and Sombra takes that as a victory. “Hi, Saty!”

Satya’s mouth remains open a second longer before she takes notice and closes it. She swallows her shock and raises  _ ese chingado _ projector back to aim at her chest.[4]

And the gesture is threatening, but her voice is casual. “Your statement is not concise-” 

And Sombra’s hackles are already raised and she cuts in. “Wha-?  _ No me mientas, _ your face was so red, I should’ve taken pictures-!”[5]

“-on a technicality.” 

Somewhere behind them, Lúcio cries out in pain and Winston roars. Satya’s eyes carry over Sombra’s shoulder and Sombra is rudely reminded of the fact that she’s supposed to be backup. 

So even if she knows Satya’s probably already past this little meeting, she drags it on. She ignores gun safety as she vaguely gestures to herself with the hand that she’s not relying on to get her out of there. “You remember how we'd run around Dorado during your breaks on that Academy project? Y’know, whenever you finally managed to sneak away."

“I didn’t-!” Satya bristles a bit in reproach. She never liked when Sombra called out her rule-breaking. It seemed her habit of being a goody-two-shoes still hadn’t broken. "I never-!"

"You totally did. There's no way they allowed you free time, c’mon Saty!  _ Pero mirate,  _ it's been so long! How are you? So you're a full-fledged architech now, huh? I guess that means you get even less playtime."[6]

And Satya hisses like a cat, and Sombra feels a wash of nostalgia even if she knows they aren’t girls and they’re both supposed to be killing each other. Any second now, and Satya will remember that. Any second now. 

"I- Of course I don't, this is-!" But Sombra doesn’t get to hear what this is, because an explosion goes off a block away, and the ground shakes with the force of it. Sombra takes that as her  _ maldito _ ‘fate’ and sprints past Satya out the door.[7]

Satya twists her arm, and Sombra’s yelling even before the architech can activate her beam.

"Well! This’s been nice! Let's grab a coffee sometime! Or hamburgers! Turkey-burgers? Or tofu, if you prefer vegetarian!"

It’s enough to get Satya to hesitate, and she yells, "Som, we are figh-!"

Sombra turns on her heel and begins jogging backwards, eyes drinking in the sight of her, grown, powerful. A foreign goddess standing in the middle of Greece. But in her mind’s eye, her left arm is slim, made out of skin and flesh and bone. Her hair is tied back at the base of her neck, her face is round and there’s a hint of a smile in her eyes despite the severity of her mouth. Sombra remembers her for who she was, and then remembers herself. She shouts back words she doesn’t believe and doesn’t mean to act on. 

"Then it's a date!  _ Ay, qué alegría verte, estás tan guapa! _ Don't worry, I'll message you the details. See ya soon!"[8]

"What? How do y-? WAIT!"

Sombra presses a button and feels a hook dig into her stomach and yank her through a rift in reality. Satya blinks out of existence and for a second, all there is is Sombra’s disbelief, her anger at the fates, and the color black. 

And then she falls out of the window projected by her beacon and onto the floor of the lighthouse where she’d planted it. Three blocks away and useless, and with a ghost on her lips so far removed it shouldn’t even be able to make it back on  _ el dia de muertos. _ But it’s there.[9]

Soft, and sweet. A good memory in between the loneliness and uncertainty of her childhood. A ghost.

* * *

 

 

_ A ghost. _

_ Of both of them, one maybe more naive and idealistic than her upbringing should allow, and the other bitter and jaded, just past the cusp of adolescence. An apology. A friendship that didn’t rely on give and take and pretending. There was no pretending. Sombra had to be  _ _ taught _ _ how not to pretend.  _

_ Sombra, whose moniker was Sombra, stepped into the light and into her space, put a hand on the wall of an alley and asked a question in her eyes. Satya, with her hands primly clasped at her back, lifted her face out of the shadow of their hiding spot and smiled. _

_ She smiled, and Sombra felt the softness of her smile firsthand. And her heart fluttered faster than a hummingbird's, and Satya felt for herself the happiness that bloomed on Sombra’s face.  _

_ Then Sombra pulled back, and Satya gave a squeak that just about gave her a heart attack. She clutched at her chest as Satya stumbled back and hid her face in her hands. _

_ And Sombra felt maybe just a single shock of overwhelming panic and she asked, “Saty… ‘spera. Was that your first…?” _ [10]

_ Satya didn’t have to unbury her face to answer, she just nodded her head vigorously as Sombra felt both a hefty dose of horror and elation, because what if it hadn’t been a good experience? What if she regretted it? But she let Sombra do it, and she smiled as she did.  _

_ So Sombra kept herself from sucking in a huge breath and laughed a bit. She put a comforting hand on her back. “Heeey, calmate! That was good!”  _

_ Satya’s answering muffled sounds of nervous embarrassment were good enough for Sombra to know that everything was okay. This was just Satya. This was just Satya being Satya, and that was Sombra’s favorite thing.  _

_ “It’s all about practice!” She said, in case it was insecurity Satya was feeling. Her hand went up to grip her shoulder and squeeze in reassurance. “It’s fine!” _

_ Satya peeked at her from behind her fingers, and she slowly lowered her hands. Sombra thought she’d won, and she was smug about it until she heard Satya’s meek but determined whisper of, “Let’s practice, then.” _

* * *

 

 

A ghost. 

“‘On a technicality’, huh?” she whispers to herself. Without really thinking about it, she’s up and moving towards the point, taking back alleys to cut down travel time. She pulls a screen open and sets her sights on Vishkar’s impenetrable network. 

Nostalgia, it turns out, is one hell of a motivator. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i say fluff? i meant fluff with a hint of angst. don't worry, the main dessert is in the next chap
> 
> Translations:  
> [1]that she’s a dumb stupidass that never looks where she’s going and now she’s going to pay for it  
> [2]Oh, you’re kidding me!  
> [3]my god, what happened to her?  
> [4]that fucking projector  
> [5]don’t lie to me  
> [6]Look at you,  
> [7]damned  
> [8]It’s so good to see you, you’re so pretty  
> [9]day of the dead  
> [10]Saty... wait.  
> 


	2. ...and Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I read the first part, and got inspired, and wrote this because why not it's not like I have a masters or a job or carnaval parades right outside my window.
> 
> Translations in the end notes. (only one thing)
> 
> Also thank you Colibri for correcting this and make it proper English.

“Let's practice then.”

  
  
Satya felt her heart pressed in her throat, bumping so loud she was sure it could be heard from across town. Yet the trembling whisper coming from her lips felt like the right thing to say, no matter if she was unsure about what was coming next. Every day that she snuck away from the Academy grounds was a day of uncertainty, but not of the uncomfortable kind. She was always eager to meet her new friend, the slightly older and considerably more roguish Mexican girl with a lopsided grin and a flair for the dramatic.

  
  
Satya knew Sombra - she never mentioned her real name - was trouble; she’d always had a good eye for problems, and been repulsed by troublesome individuals. But Sombra was different. She was kind, witty, and fun, and her laughter was like a wave moving towards the surf, finally crashing on the shore and stretching on the sand. She was smart and could talk her way out of anything, even when they were caught stealing persimmons from the yard of an enemy of her band. She could hack into any system, even if she was still trying to break Vishkar’s main security servers ever since Satya had bet she couldn’t. At first Satya thought that feat was impossible, but now she wasn’t so sure. Not for Sombra.

  
  
She meant problems, and Satya normally wouldn’t want anything to do with that, she wanted to be the top of her class, like always. That’s how she managed to be recruited for a junior project with the Academy there, in Mexico. She was youngest of the batch, having barely reached adolescence when her peers were already leaving it, but it only gave her a bigger sense of pride in her achievements. She knew she had to work twice as hard and be three times as deaf to envious whispers to get somewhere, so her diligence was incomparable, or so she thought.

  
  
Because as soon as she got lost in her first assignment in Dorado and was taken back home by that strange girl with an attitude, she felt her priorities turning upside down. Sombra had saved Satya that day from some kind of street gang, although - the younger girl learned later - the gang was actually looking for her. It upset Satya that her friend didn’t disclose that earlier, because after all, she wouldn’t have really been in danger if Sombra weren’t around. In the end, they made amends, and Sombra promised to be less mischievous towards her. And Satya hoped it was true, as since that evening she tried to leave her duties as much as she could to meet the grinning girl and eat grilled sweet corn in the square, explore ruins and abandoned churches, and play tag up and down the maddening narrow alleys of Dorado, jumping from rooftop to rooftop and climbing down buildings to find hidden patios forgotten by time.

  
  
“ _Oye, Saty! Llegas tarde!_ ” she’d say as they met, every single day, even when Satya arrived on time.

  
  
They talked, too; about tv shows and video games, books and anecdotes, building and computer systems. They couldn’t always understand each other - either because their English wasn’t perfect, or because their worlds were sometimes much apart - but they focused to learn. Sombra would show her, smugly, her hacking abilities, while Satya primly calculated the distances they had run and warned when a pit was too wide to jump (Sombra always ignored her and it was a miracle she never broke anything). Sombra teased and pestered her and for some reason Satya was almost never annoyed. It was fun. Even when she scolded her friend for her association with Los Muertos and they argued about her school attendance, they always seemed to get along. And somehow Satya seemed to have an effect on her too: Sombra confessed she’d been working a little harder on her traditional education and strayed a little from the gang to be with her, and the gang, well, their friendship was different, and hers was better.

  
Satya felt her face warm and her stomach loop at those words, and that wasn’t the first time that happened. Like every other time, she turned away, half covering her face, and bluntly changed the subject. Sombra had just smiled cryptically.

  
  
And somehow, at some point, the games started to change. Not in a bad way, just… she felt Sombra’s hands linger on hers after they’d helped each other climb over a porch. She saw Sombra stealing looks towards her, when she was trying to steal a glance, too, and they’d turn their eyes away at the same time, awkwardly. They spent hours in silence observing the sea under a blanket of stars, or lying on a rooftop making shapes out of clouds, or just walking side by side through the secretive paths of the town, confiding secrets, their fingers brushing every now and again.

  
And one day, after some lazy chasing through the alleyways, Satya surprised Sombra by emerging from behind a wall, biting her lower lip in satisfaction. Sombra had laughed, snorting “You finally caught me!” in intervals, relaxed and happy, resting her hand on the wall so she wouldn’t fall. It was so beautiful, Satya felt her insides ache. She was poised, however, and puffed her chest, tipping her chin up and clasping her hands behind her back.

  
  
“Now you can’t say I don’t know the place.” she smirked, proudly, as Sombra giggled. But her face softened to a smile when Sombra sighed for the last time and their eyes met. Satya saw a coy smile on the girl’s lips, and it was so odd and secretive that she felt her heart flutter. She suddenly realized how daring had she been all that time stationed there, defying orders, doing mischiefs, playing around with a wayward girl. As she felt the blood throbbing in her ears, she wondered if she would go that far.

  
  
She did, keeping the tip of her toe on the ground as she twisted her leg, like some heroine from a cheesy movie. And then she asked for more, and Sombra blinked a few times, stuttering as Satya saw the color spreading on her face as well.

  
  
Satya contained a snicker, giving a small step forward. Sombra looked lost for a moment, but quickly smiled back and shut her eyes, tossing her head back dramatically, and twisting her body to hit the wall she was leaning on with her back. Then she took Satya’s hands and pulled her closer, not caring to hide her own giggles as she intertwined their fingers and leaned forward, eyes closing.

  
  
That afternoon lasted an eternity, and still Satya can’t remember what else happened. They were together, left the alley, went to the plaza, to a rooftop, to the beach, all hazy like a dream; but fifteen years later she could still feel the girl’s rough palms against hers, giggles tickling her lips, the sound of her sigh.

  
The woman she met on the battlefield brought that all to mind again, washing ashore so much she thought was lost. She found it hard to see her summer love in that darkened, cocky face. But there was a glimmer in her eye, and her laughter - _building and advancing and crashing on the sand_ \- was the same.

  
  
How did she remember Satya so well as to recognize her so many years later?

  
  
That was the question she typed on her holo tablet in response to a single purple sentence that had appeared on a dark window. She knew she shouldn’t answer. But as she glanced at it once again, she felt daring.

  
  
_Oye, Saty! Llegas tarde!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Oye, Saty! Llegas tarde" - Hey, Saty! You're late!


End file.
